


mourning legend

by madnessiseverything



Series: a wilder narnia [6]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Book/Movie: Prince Caspian, Gen, POV Second Person, Prose Poem, being a legend and what it strips you of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: They see idols, statues, carvings on stone walls, paintings within historical tomes. And that is not what you are.the one where you wonder how to tell them that you are not how they paint you.
Series: a wilder narnia [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952599
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	mourning legend

**Author's Note:**

> because i will never not have something to say about the mythologisation of the pevensies

How do you live up to this, you ask yourselves. How do you live up to the legend? How do you follow in your own footsteps, now much too large to fill? How do you come home when your home has lived a hundred lifetimes without you?   
  


They look at you and see not your bodies (school child-child-too small-too fragile), but a landscape full of life and long-gone peace. They see victory, glory, a battle easily won and a gracious rule. They see salvation, legend, a golden age. 

  
They don’t see the scars, the unyielding prison, the shake of your breaths and the purple-bruise map of all fights and failures you come with. They don’t see the steel, the gnarled roots, the ugly mess inside your chests.

  
They don’t see children, and did you not wish that? Did you not wish for them to see you as you are meant to be? Why then do their eyes that see royalty without hesitation feel like chains? Why do your shoulders droop under the weight of their eager gaze?

  
Perhaps it is because they don’t see you as you were then. They see legends, mythology, saviours upon a pedestal of shining light, a throne they paint golden when it should be red and blue for every wound it gave you. They see idols, statues, carvings on stone walls, paintings within historical tomes. And that is not what you are, standing among them in clothes that used to fit better in another life and with promises that slide across your tongue like tar. That is not what you are.

  
You are claws and teeth and unsung roars. You are tear-stained screams and bloodied hands and crowns too heavy for anyone but you to bear. You are cracked marble, crumbling stone, unworked metal, burning wood. You are beautiful, regal, a coming storm, but you are not what their eyes tell them they see.

  
And how does one even begin to tell these desperate souls that their salvation will not be golden? That glory is not so easily achieved? That you did not sit upon your throne with clean robes and regal smiles when you became rulers of a kingdom, but stood upon a cliff in bloodied armour and torn skin and swore oaths unknown to the creatures that now call you saviours? 

  
So how do you tell them that you are not what they make you out to be? You don’t. You swallow down the words like molten rock and choke on that truth. They cannot help seeing the fairytales you have become in a land that hasn’t known you for a millennium. You aid them as they ask you to, and pray their dreams won’t cut them when they shatter underneath your feet.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on my [narnia tumblr](https://bloodybigwardrobe.tumblr.com/) and on [twitter](https://twitter.com/notanycritter).


End file.
